


Indulgences

by JustJasper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cum Eating, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oil as Lube, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how many times he had sunk to his knees, his lover always seemed grateful and somewhat surprised he was willing and eager to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgences

**Author's Note:**

> Un betaed, please point out any typos! Find me on tumblr at [justjasper](http://justjasper.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Has background mention of Female Cadash/Josephine. Enjoy the use of a mid-ages jockstrap.

“ **They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald**

The Skyhold library was uncharacteristically noisy, due to carpenters fixing several of the bookshelves after a mishap with something arcane and volatile the Inquisitor had brought back from the field, so Dorian had retreated to the quarters he shared to read. It gave him the excuse to light his favourite incense, nurse a glass of wine, and slip into a comfortable deep green silk robe with gold embroidery. It was much too flimsy to wear out and about in Skyhold, both because of the general climate and it was decadent in a most brazen way. It had been expensive, much too extravagant a purchase now he got by on Inquisition funds, but he tried to take his pleasures where he could, and rare days lounging around and indulging himself certainly helped his morale.

The other occupant of the room, the Iron Bull – it had been his room alone, once, now theirs - had arrived with dinner as evening came. He had perhaps anticipated Dorian's indulgent mood, because he'd procured sugary candied fruits for dessert, bartered or flirted his way to them no doubt. Afterwards, as he had got back to his books, Bull revealed his own, something bound in bright red leather. He held the book with one hand as he used his other to slowly, distractedly take off his boots, perched on the edge of the bed.

Dorian smiled at his lover, full of fondness. “Another one of Varric's trashy offerings?” Bull met his gaze briefly, then went back to reading.

“Varric's books aren't trashy, they're pretty tame. This?” he wiggled the book, “This is trashy.”

“Where did you procure that from, then?” Dorian was truly interested, and couldn't help watching Bull read, especially as he moved to stand, book still in hand and began unbuckling his shoulder harness.

“Josephine.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “I had no idea your friendship was at a trashy book lending level.”

“What can I say,” Bull shrugged, still paying the majority of his attention to his book, “people like me.”

That was certainly true, Dorian thought. “How sordid is this tale?”

“Pretty hot.” He turned the page once he had set his harness down. “Flowery. Lots of 'blossoming petals' and ''heaving mounds' action going on, but the runaway-princess-turned-smuggler heroine is currently taking two 'aching staves' at once.”

“How exciting!” Dorian chuckled, amused by this turn of events. He should have guessed that Ms Montilyet would enjoy a good romantic erotica novel, considering she'd been swept off her feet by their own roguish Cadash, who was certainly dashing in her own charming way.

Bull was working on his belt buckle now, being distracted with the novel helping to drag out the time it took to remove a distinct lack of clothes to start with. Dorian was not entirely convinced the whole thing was innocent, and not a calculated move to have him staring.

But stare he did, eyes raking over his lover's exposed flesh. He shucked off his trousers, stepping out of them and kicking them idly across the floor in the general direction of the chair over which his shoulder harness was rested. That left him in nothing but the cloth pouch that covered his genitals, sturdy but supple leather straps across the tops of his thighs and over his hips, offering support but leaving so little to the imagination.

Even for a qunari Bull was tall and wide, a giant amongst his kin. The sheer scale of him was breathtaking, intimidating, and—Dorian had discovered - completely deceptive. He was strong, and trained hard, but he also indulged his pleasures, which was evident in his build; even though he consisted largely of well-honed musculature, he also had soft deposits of fat that the mage found utterly delightful. His chest would strain with the incredible feat of swinging around a great battle axe, and his pectorals were large and meaty. His arms were nothing but muscle, and while his core was strong and sturdy, he had a gut that jiggled in the most glorious way. His thighs were great big thundering trunks of muscle and flesh that Dorian relished pushed between his own. A backside that had a little wiggle in it when the man walked, ample and-

“Enjoying the view?” The Iron Bull's grin was evident in his voice even before Dorian could drag his eyes back upwards. He had taken off his eye patch, revealing the long-healed scarring where the other eye had once been.

“Quite.” He smirked, shutting his book with a snap and setting it aside. “Take off the harness.”

“You want to see all of me?”

“I do, unless you'd rather keep reading.”

Bull tossed his book unceremoniously onto the bed, where it promptly bounced off and landed on the floor with a thud. He held Dorian's gaze as he undid the small buckles that held the straps of his cloth in place, and let it drop to the floor. _Maker_.

“Sit.” Dorian jerked his chin at the large qunari-sized chair that Dorian had had made for him as some sort of 'we're-sharing-quarters-now' gift, by the same carpenter who had made their bed, which they had been assured by the carpenter, by way of a mortified quartermaster, could withstand 'five fat qunari having an orgy'.

“Bossy.” Bull chuckled. “I like it.”

“I know. I do enjoy indulging you, sometimes.”

He got up from his own seat, and smoothed his hands over his robe to make sure it was still covering enough of him so he wouldn't cause too much of a distraction. He crossed to an ornate wooden box on the dresser, opened the latch and ran his fingers around the corks of the bottles inside, making the glass tinkle against each other. He selected a suitable oil and slipped the bottle into a pocket of his robe as he closed the lid. He pulled up the footstool in front of Bull, and seated himself on it, bracing his hands on the other man's knees, ran them along his large thighs as he settled. His intentions were clear from the position he'd chosen, and he registered the low rumbling appreciative sound from his companion.

“I rarely did this with the men I used to go to bed with,” Dorian said conversationally as he wrapped a hand around Bull's girth. He was unfamiliar with qunari averages, but surely his lover's cock was thicker and mightier than his kin, in fitting with the rest of him. The tips of his thumb and middle finger barely met around the girth. He smelt familiar in both his own musk and the scent of soap, had probably washed after training, and Dorian felt his heart swell at the thought of the consideration that showed to him.

“You don't have to do it now.” Bull reached out to touch his jaw, hand so massive and so gentle. Dorian leaned into the contact, smiling. No matter how many times he had willingly sunk to his knees—or climbed atop him, or spread out on the bed to use his mouth, his lover always seemed grateful and somewhat surprised he was willing and eager to do it.

“Want to,” he assured, before continuing. A year ago he would not have dreamed about speaking casually about his conquests in Tevinter, as tied up in shame and confusion as they had been, but somewhere along the way he had thrown himself wholeheartedly to trusting another person. “Rarely received such, either. Too much of a power play to us stuck up vints, I suppose.”

“Even with slaves?”

“I never bedded a slave.” He glared up at Bull, with no real heat to his words. Months before it would have set him off, he'd have been grossly offended by the insinuation. These days, a little back-and-forth on each of their backgrounds was given. Sporting, even.

“Because you didn't think it was fair, or because they were beneath you?”

“I wish I could say purely the former.” He thumbed the thick vein on the underside of Bull's strengthening cock. “But I suppose at the time, more the latter. My affairs may have been fleeting and sordid, but they were at attempt at a real connection, some mutual meeting of desires, not a sexual chore to undertake. I knew that a slave could never truly consent, only acquiesce, but my concern was still largely about how that made me feel, rather than any really consideration for a slave having to serve someone's sexual needs. In that regard I'm lucky to have been all but exiled. Undoubtedly my complicity would have extended to that eventually.”

Bull smiled at him, caught his chin between large thumb and forefinger and stroked over his goatee gently, something sad in his face, because he likely believed that would have come to be true.

“The problem my family has was never really that I liked to go to bed with men,” he elaborated as he slowly trailed his fingertips along Bull's length, growing rapidly harder against his belly. “They'd have grudgingly funded a habit for male body slaves if I was willing to marry and produce an heir, but I wanted more, and I wanted to do so openly. I never imagined doing anything like running away to Ferelden and bedding a great qunari brute to achieve it.”

“I'm glad you did.” Bull's voice was full of an affection that still made Dorian's head swim, sometimes.

“Oh, I don't doubt it.” He retrieved the bottle of oil from his pocket and uncork it with his teeth, then carefully poured a fair amount into his other hand, and corked it again before stashing it back in his robe. He rubbed his palms together, spread oil over both of them, shaking his sleeves down his forearms out of the way. Bull was watching him intently, watching his hands with one hungry eye. Oil suitably warmed, he wrapped one around the Bull's cock, spreading the oil over him in repeated downward strokes, aiding the retraction of his foreskin as Bull grew to full hardness.

“Hmm,” Bull moaned, gripping the arms of his chair. “Such good hands, kadan.”

Dorian smiled to himself, and he slipped his other oiled hand downwards to take his lover's balls. The size of them had still shocked him despite years of Tevinter propaganda about how the qunari were huge bestial brutes, and the fashion for crude sexual drawings making the rounds. He gave them a gentle tug in time with a twisting stroke of his cock, thumb dodging the sensitive tip where precum had begun to bead. He rolled them in his cupped hand, only just able to gather both in his grasp, feeling the shapes held within the skin.

The head of Bull's grey cock had turned a reddy purple in arousal, foreskin pulled back below the defined rim, and Dorian continued to stroke firmly but carefully, applying the most force downward so he didn't push the skin up over the sensitive crown. He knew, under certain conditions he could drive the Bull to shouting need with just his thumb and finger stroking and pinching the glans, running over the corona, when they were in the mood for a little meanness. Tonight, however, Dorian meant to neglect such a sensitive part only to tease his lover.

“What bought this on?” Bull asked, and Dorian squeezed his hand as he looked to meet his eyes.

“Do I need a reason to touch you?”

“No, but you went from happily reading to this pretty fast. I'm not complaining.”

“My mind has wandered somewhat today.” He sighed contently. “I admit that it often does, when you're not close enough to serve directly as a distraction.”

The Iron Bull smiled at him, good eye glinting with triumph and with desire, radiating affection.

“I'm a man who has always had-” he paused, stroking upwards on Bull's cock, pushing his foreskin up over rim at the head, which made the qunari's eye flutter and hands flex against the chair arms, “-strong desires. Strong, but vague. I didn't know what I desired most until I had you, it seems.”

“Aw, you're a real romantic at heart, aren't you?”

Dorian smiled up at him, waggled an eyebrow, and gave Bull's balls a tug. He grunted, and Dorian let out a breathy laugh. He stroked him fully now, repeatedly dragging his foreskin over the sensitive head of his cock, a dribble of precum mixing with the oil. He was long enough that he could fit both hands around him, indeed he had developed numerous two-handed techniques, but he enjoyed how riled he could get Bull by using one hand on his cock and the other on his balls.

He rolled them in hand upwards, pressing them against his body as he snuck his fingers back behind them and pressed them firmly along the expanse of skin between sack and hole. Bull's hips tilted into the contact, low rumble of a moan working its way out of his chest. The position did not lend itself to Dorian venturing his fingers any further, but it was a quiet thrill to know that if that had been his intention, he only had to ask. He pressed his fingers along the man's perineum again, and finally used his thumb on the ultra sensitive tip of his cock.

The Iron Bull shifted in his seat, straining towards the sensation. Dorian repeated the motion, smearing precum around the slit, and brought the wandering hand up to grasp around the base of his cock. He shifted back on his stool a little, bringing the shaft downwards, more horizontal, and with a glance upwards at Bull's intense face, he darted out his tongue and swiped it over the slit of his cock.

“Holy shit!” Bull practically whined, a sound Dorian fleetingly hoped only he had ever elicited from him.

He braced the hand that wasn't holding his base on the man's sturdy thigh and repeated the action, licking over the slit again, catching a drop of precum and making a show of withdrawing his tongue to taste the salt of it. Bull's eye was intense now, hands gripping the arms of the chair hard. He pressed his lips to the head of the cock, kissing it obscenely, swirling his tongue around.

“Your tongue!” Bull groaned. “So clever.”

He sucked the head into his mouth, a little groan of his own at the shape of him, the weight of him on his tongue. He pulled back, lips pursed, enough to swirl his tongue around again, before taking even more of him into his mouth. His lips stretched around his girth, the residual oil helping to ease his way, and he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked.

He'd never enjoyed using his mouth before Bull; there was often little time to dedicate to the act, and his previous sexual partners had been too selfish, or rough. Even though every single one had been considerably smaller than Bull was, he felt nothing but ease with him. He knew the man would not make him take more, would not even risk the temptation to do so by putting his hands on Dorian's head without checking in.

As if on cue, Bull let out a shaky breath, one hand easing off arm of the chair and hovering. “Can I put my hand on your head?”

“Yes,” Dorian tried his best to say around a mouthful of qunari cock, nodding, and making a coaxing motion with his bracing hand. Bull needed a clear sign, and Dorian was eager to supply one. Iron Bull gently threaded his fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his head. It was a bracing movement, applying no pressure as Dorian pulled back sucking his cheeks in, then pushed down again.

It was good that Bull liked the slight pressure of teeth, because with the sheer size of him it was impossible for Dorian to avoid the scrape of them. As he sunk his mouth lower he felt the tease of Bull's cock head at his gag reflex. He wasn't even halfway down the length of him, and the thought made him groan around the flesh in his mouth. He could take him all, had done more than once, but it required a good deal of time set aside and usually him on his back with his head hanging off the bed to achieve. He could, however, push past his reflex, and took Bull's cock into his throat a little way.

Bull's hand gripped at the back of his skull. “Shit, shit!”

If he'd been able to grin, he would have, but his mouth was happily occupied. He pulled back a little, reminded himself to keep breathing through his nose, and pushed forward again, letting Bull's cock into his throat. He repeated the motion, soon having relaxed his gag reflex enough to push even further, until it was uncomfortable to do so any more. He pulled back after that, knowing that Bull would chide him for overdoing things if he kept going, and drew his lips back until just the head was in his mouth. He wrote a tevene letter with his tongue on the glans, then sucked him back down again.

While the Iron Bull had quite the staying power, Dorian imagined himself to have the most talented mouth in Skyhold, so it was not long before his lover's hips were straining upwards, his breath laboured and fast.

“Dorian,” he breathed. “Dorian. I'm close, I'm there!”

He pulled back until his mouth was full of him but he could breath around him, and sucked hard. He stroked the hand along the bottom part of his shaft, working his lover towards his release. With something between a grunt and a cry Bull came, fisting his hand in Dorian's hair, holding his head steady, and clearly struggling not to buck forward with the force of his orgasm. Dorian took all he had to offer, stroking him through climax and swallowing his semen eagerly. He had never swallowed for another man, could not imagine it now, to do that specific act with anyone else, to be that completely connected with another person.

After Bull's body sagged in the chair, Dorian pulled back with a wet pop. His jaw ached faintly as he shifted it from side to side, then licked his lips and gave a contented sigh. He licked the last weak bubble of ejaculate from the head of Bull's cock, savouring the taste of him in his mouth.

“How'd I get so lucky that you and that wicked mouth want me?” Bull asked him, grinning in a dazed sort of way.

“Sheer dumb luck, I imagine.” Dorian kissed his thigh, and then resting his chin on it. Only now that he'd finished the task at hand did he realised how painful hard he was, straining cock rubbing against the fabric of his gown, making him shift in his seat. Bull peered at him interestedly, and gave him a knowing smile.

“Your turn,” he said as he eased himself up out of the chair, offering his hands to help Dorian up too.

Dorian made a noise of protest at the vague discomfort of an untended erection. “Don't drag it out, amatus.” Bull went for the fabric waist tie of his robe. “I'll finish with barely a touch, I'm too far gone to tease.”

“Well, let's see,” Bull said as he pushed the robe from Dorian's shoulders. His cock stood out proudly, tip glistening with wetness. “Kadan, it's hot that you get so hard when you suck me off.”

“Stop admiring the view and touch me.” The demand was full of affection and he leaned into Bull's shape, holding his arm for support. Bull reached down and took him in a firm hand, so large and so familiar and so talented.

“Look at you,” Bull cooed.

“Bull,” Dorian breathed, kissing the skin of his lover's chest nearest to his mouth. “Bull, please.” Another kiss, hips straining into the contact. Bull was evidently feeling sated and kind, because his hand tried none of the trickery he liked to employ to drag out the pleasure, just twisted his grip and ran a huge thumb over his cock head. Dorian groaned and swore in Tevene, mouth open and panting against the Bull's chest as he came in strong spurts over his hand.

Bull hummed happily. “You're so pretty.” He lifted his hand and licked his thumb clean of cum. There was nothing showy about it as Dorian gazed up and watched him lick his hand clean, he just seemed to enjoy it. The thought made warmth curl in his stomach, and he wondered if finding a sordid thing so romantic was proof enough that this was where his heart belonged.

“Bed, amatus? Unless you've got plans to out-drink the soldiers with your motley crew?”

“Not tonight.” Bull rolled his shoulders, and steered them towards their shared bed. “Boss mentioned something about a dragon closing territory in Crestwood.”

“So, naturally you volunteered.” Dorian gave an exaggerated sigh as he climbed into bed, arranging the quilts around them. “You ought to rest, then.”

“You could come,” Bull suggested. “Harding tells me Caer Bronach is almost liveable now.”

“Perhaps I shall.” Dorian settling against Bull's side, cosying up to his warmth. “If only to keep you from being eaten. That wouldn't do.”

“What a way to go,” Bull sighed wistfully, curling his arm around Dorian and lightly snaking his fingers through his hair.

At ease and unworried about the dangers of dragons at least for the evening, sleep found them both easy conquests in the aftermath of their release.

“ **The webs spun by our existence had gracefully overlapped and knotted until you could not have one without the other. We were infinitely intertwined.” - Blakney Francis**


End file.
